


Even Kings Bleed Red

by polaroidfiction



Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Brotherhood Martin AU, Female Character of Color, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-08-23 16:39:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16622552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polaroidfiction/pseuds/polaroidfiction
Summary: NOT ABANDONEDWhen June was arrested, she expected to undergo a normal breakout and return to the Thieves Guild. But when she instead witnesses the death of the Emperor, she is thrust into a mission to find his only living heir, lest the world be destroyed.How unfortunate then that the man vanished years ago, last seen in the company of the Dark Brotherhood.But no pressure or anything.((Several months ago I asked myself, "How would TES: Oblivion change if Martin had worshipped Sithis instead of Sanguine?" This is my answer.))





	1. Not Some Thieves Guild Job

“The Emperor spoke the truth; there is one remaining heir, assuming he yet lives.” Jauffre’s brow pinched as he stood from his desk. Sunlight streamed in the office window behind him, forcing June, a Redguard thief much more accustomed to soft moonlight, to squint as she looked at him. “Under normal circumstances I would never consider him fit to hold the Septim name, let alone the throne of the Empire,” Jauffre continued, “but these are hardly normal circumstances. With the fate of our reality at stake, we have no other options.”

“Who is he? Is something wrong with him?” June asked, brushing a curl of hair from her face. The monks of Weynon Priory had welcomed her at Jauffre's insistence, but Jauffre had declined to explain anything until the following day. Even now he remained indirect, to June's frustration.

“His given name is Martin. He—” Jauffre sighed heavily and ran his hands over his face. “When he was born, another bastard son, Uriel bade me bring him somewhere safe. I found him a home, and he grew up unaware of his lineage. He was a perfectly normal, healthy boy. He showed an aptitude for magic and joined the Mage’s Guild as soon as he was old enough, and then… something went wrong. He threw a fit one day and left the guild with a number of his peers. He became scarce and for almost two years we didn’t even know if he was alive. When we finally found him again, he wore the mantle of the Dark Brotherhood.”

June felt her stomach drop. “The last heir is an assassin?”

“Presumably, yes. Uriel denounced Martin when he found out, and we haven’t sought him out since. That was almost eight years ago now.”

“So, the Emperor’s dying wish is for me to find a man who is specially trained not to be found, and who hasn’t been seen in eight years, in an organization built on secrecy. How am I to manage this?”

“You’ll of course have access to the Blades’ resources, though our information on the matter is limited. I recommend you start in Cheydinhal, where we found Martin last. I’ll send out agents to search elsewhere.” Jauffre turned to a bookshelf full of records and traced along the volume’s spines. “It may come down to infiltrating their ranks, but with your history and… skillset, I imagine that won’t be an issue.” There was a poorly disguised judgemental bite in his voice. He looked to June, eyebrows raised. “Was there something else you needed?”

“Oh, um, no sir,” June said, taking the cue to excuse herself.

Outside, June stood leery for a moment, considering her task. “Cheydinhal, Cheydinhal…” she muttered. Her travels hadn’t seen her to Cheydinhal in some time, so connections would be few and far between. The city was prosperous, leaving little room for the criminal underworld June was familiar with. 

“I always hated intelligence jobs,” she grumbled, and set off to prepare for the long trip to the other side of Cyrodiil.

 

June sighed in relief as Cheydinhal’s towers came into view, stained orange by the sunset. Days of walking had left her cold, sore, and in want of a properly cooked meal. She had been forced to pass through the Imperial City with haste; after her arrest, Hieronymus Lex had gotten a big head and started cracking down on Thieves Guild activity with new vigor. She slept and ate on the road, and despised every minute of it.

“Hey, hey! You look exhausted, traveller! Have you considered how a horse could ease your journeys?”

The voice pierced the air like a cheap whistle. June rolled her eyes and looked into the stable paddock, preparing her response so that she could avoid—  “Wait, Frederick? Is that you?”

“Blessings of Akatosh! It’s June!” The man who had called out from the stable now skipped across the paddock to the gate, a wide smile on his pale, wrinkled face. June jogged to embrace him over the fence, wonder on her face.

“Frederick, what on earth are you doing here? Last I heard from you, you were sleeping in a snowbank in Bruma. But now, you actually look… presentable!” 

Frederick smiled proudly. His hair was grey and dirty, as June had always known it to be, but it was trimmed at chin-length and free of tangles. His clothes were stock, dyed only by dirt and sweat, but they had no tears or patches. His shoes— he even had shoes!— were made of tough looking leather, fitting to keep his feet dry in the muddy paddock. He was clearly a labourer, but labourer was miles above his previous status as a half-dead beggar.

“I got a job here!” Frederick exclaimed, “The stable needed a new trainer for the horses, and they heard about my impressive work back in my youth. They called for me  _ personally _ , and I’m making the big bucks now.”

“You, a horse trainer? I don’t believe that for a second,” June said and crossed her arms, smirking. “You’d fall off a chair if it didn’t have arms.”

“I take offense to that!” Frederick conceded with a wheezy laugh, “But you got me. I’m just here to clean up after the animals and make sure nobody steals ‘em at night. But I do have a job, at last, and they let me keep my bed in the barn. I even bought these clothes with my own hard-earned coin. But, June,” Frederick stopped. He leaned towards June and continued in a voice barely above a whisper, “How are  _ you _ here? I knew something was wrong when the guild went silent, but then word got out about the arrests and you were on the list. And now the Emperor’s been kill’t, I expected they’d catch the Grey Fox himself before they let anyone go.”

“The Imperial prison is a crumbling termite mound. It was no trouble getting out of it. I imagine things will go back to normal soon,” June lied. “Listen, catching up aside, I’m glad I found you. I’m on a job, and I need information.”

“I-I don’t know how much help I can be, I’ve only been here a few months and I’m trying to stay clear of—”

June let her skepticism show on her face, and she held up a half-empty bottle of skooma, slipped from Frederick’s vest pocket. Frederick sputtered and snatched the bottle out of her hand.

“Not where my boss could see! I get it, no more games. C’mere, we can talk in the barn.”

June climbed over the paddock fence and followed Frederick to the barn. She sat on a hay bale as he lit the lamp next to his bedroll. He groaned as he lowered himself to sit cross-legged on the ground.

“So, tell me what you need to know. I might be able to get you what you need. And because I’m so glad to see you, I’ll even do it on the house.”

June smiled softly in the flickering light. “Just like old times, eh? Alright, Frederick. I need to find an assassin.”

Frederick blinked several times, mouth agape. “And this is… definitely for a job? Not a personal vendetta?”

“No, no, not like that. I need to find a specific person, and the only lead we have is that he’s a member of the Dark Brotherhood.”

Frederick still looked uneasy, shifting in place and fiddling with the cork on the skooma bottle. “I-I don’t know if I can help with this one, June. If you needed a fence or a dealer, you know I’d tell you, but this… I d-don’t like the idea of getting involved with murderers. Risky business. Who’s this guy you’re looking for, anyway?”

“His name is Martin. All I know is he was a mage and he lived in Cheydinhal about eight years ago.”

“Gods, that’s… that’s not much to go on. Alright, let me think… I might know a guy. He lives down the south end of the city by the river, tells me he’s been in the area his whole life. If he doesn’t know something, he can point you to someone who does. But I want no more a part in this one! I won’t thank you if assassins come knocking on my door!”

“Nobody saw anything, never met you before,” June recited. “This may not be a guild job, but you know I follow procedure.”

“Wait, wait, this isn’t for the guild? Then who in Oblivion is getting you involved with the Dark Brotherhood?” Frederick hissed.

June hesitated. “... it’s for a friend. He was looking for someone from his past, and I was around to hear him out. Enough talk, I should get going.” June stood.

“June…” Frederick groaned again as he stood up. “I really am glad to see you well. Keep yourself safe out there.”

June left the barn and waded back through the paddock. A disgruntled bosmer woman was leaning on the fence by the gate. “Is that farmhand in there? I need a horse!” she snapped at June.

“Go on in,” June said, holding the gate for the woman. The woman just looked at her with disgust, huffed, and strode away towards the city gate. June watched her go, bewildered. “He’s in there!” she said, although the woman was not around to hear. June wondered how long Frederick would keep his job if many of the stable’s customers were like that.

June looked to the horizon. The sun was almost gone behind the trees, and the sky was rapidly darkening. June’s body ached for sleep, but the underworld was a nocturnal beast. She could get a head start on her search, then find an inn and sleep through the morning. She sighed, once again struck by the immensity of her task.


	2. Cat and Mouse, Probably

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mysterious assassin pays June a visit, but June is not having any of that spooky garbage.

“You’ve been asking questions that are best left unanswered, Redguard.”

June lurched from her sleep, but a hand pressing down on her clavicle prevented her from moving far. She peered upwards, seeking her assailant, but the darkness of her inn room was complete. She felt the flat of a dagger brush slowly across her neck. She froze. 

“Better,” the voice said. June swallowed and bit her lip.

“You ask the beggars, the lowlives, the criminal scum, ‘how do I find the Brotherhood?’ ‘how do I join their ranks?’” The rumbling voice tumbled into laughter. “Rather brash, don’t you think? If the wrong person heard about your inquiries, why, you could be arrested…” The cold metal touched her throat again. “... or killed…”

“Please,” June whispered, “I-I didn’t mean for—”

“I paid your dear beggar friends a visit. How quickly they quail when faced with the sharp end of a dagger. You are birds of a feather, it seems.”

June’s cheek burned as the tip of the dagger suddenly grazed across it. Her jaw quivered as she choked back a gasp. She scrunched her face against the pain and held her eyes closed.  

“They told me all about you, June, and I was amazed to hear not of a clumsy stranger asking bizarre questions, but of an accomplished and beloved thief, a prowler. Even those who didn’t know you knew your name. She who walks with all the noise of a shadow, she who feeds the beggars, she who could steal a charm off your neck, or a knife out of your hand…”

The room fell silent, save for June’s near-panicked breathing. Slowly, the pressure on her clavicle eased, until the hand was gone entirely.

“Keep looking, little thief. You may prove an asset to us, yet.”

June heard the door to her room open and close. Then, her eyes adjusted to the dark of her room, as if she had only just put out her candle. She glanced around and, seeing the room empty, sat up and tumbled from the bed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she whispered.  _ ‘All the noise of a shadow’ is right _ , she thought, pulling on her boots over the pants of her nightclothes.  _ You think you're so clever by following a trail and picking a lock. _ She sped down the stairs to the empty tavern floor of the inn, landing just in time to see the entry door close softly.  _ Well I can do that too! _ She considered for a moment that she should have grabbed a dagger, but brushed the thought aside. She would certainly die in any confrontation with the trained killer, dagger or no. Better to just avoid the possibility entirely. She opened the door and stepped into the street, only to find it empty save for a patrolling guardsman. June huffed. Of course an assassin wouldn’t make it easy.

The sky was just turning pink over the city wall with the sunrise. In the corner of June's vision, the cobbles of the road rippled.  _ Invisibility _ . June half-smiled. Invisibility was good for a getaway, but all but the best potions had short-lived effects. She feigned confusion, but watched in the side of her vision as the ripple veered off the road into an alley.  _ Bingo. _

She padded quickly down the road, staying in the shadows cast by the sunrise. She took an alley that connected to the same back street and paused at the corner, listening for footsteps. They were faint and growing fainter. June peaked around the corner and spotted a tall man in a black cloak walking briskly away down the street, towards the east gate. The guards would let him through, thinking him nothing more than a traveler getting an early start on his journey.

June climbed onto a nearby stone fence and used the height to leap onto the wall of the adjacent building. A little known benefit of Cheydinhal's flourishing economy was the tenancy of its buildings to be heavy with extravagant decorations— structures that made for easy climbing.

June reached the roof in moments and peered out over the road while she caught her breath. The man hadn't made it to the end of the back street, but he was close. June scaled the roof to its peak and ran after the man. The closer she got, running and leaping across the rooftops, the lower she held herself, careful to avoid detection by either the man or by any particularly watchful guards. 

When June reached the final house in the row, she slowed to crawl on all fours. The gate was in view now, as was the man approaching it. If he knew about her presence, he gave away nothing to indicate it. June flattened herself against the shingles of the roof and only then did the stupidity of her actions occur to her. She was attempting to stalk an assassin who had, in no simple terms, threatened to kill her, while equipped with neither armor nor weapons to defend herself.

But that guy was an asshole with information she needed, and adrenaline had already carried her this far.

She shimmied down from the roof, landing softly in the grass. She flattened herself against the city wall and edged toward the gatehouse. The man made idle conversation with one of the guards while the other unlocked and pulled open one great door for him. He slipped out into the night like a breath of wind. While the guards secured the door, June entered the gatehouse and ascended the ladder to the battlements above. She peered out from the parapet, and saw the man riding eastward on the back of a black horse. From her vantage point, she saw him round a bend in the road and then veer off into the woods. June frowned. The only thing in that direction was some decrepit, overgrown fort. It was a fair enough choice of residence, she supposed; nobody would ever think it worth searching, so the man was free to do… whatever it was assassins did in their free time. However, it really did push the creepy murderer shtick to an extreme.

But where did the horse come from? The stable was on the opposite end of the city to the west. June leaned forward to look at the ground near the wall and got her answer.

“Oh, Frederick, you poor bastard,” June murmured, watching as Frederick made his way along the city wall back towards the stable. “Liar, liar…”

June descended from the wall and cut across the city to the west gate. She arrived at the stable and tucked herself behind a stack of hay bales minutes before Frederick arrived. She quieted her breathing when she heard squelching footsteps cross the muddy paddock. She watched through a gap in the bales as Frederick approached, unawares, a purse fat with coin held tightly in one hand. June noted the poorly hidden knife he carried; a cheap, iron thing tucked into the waistband of his pants behind his left hip.

Frederick sat on a hay bale at the front of the stack and opened his purse. He giggled as he started counting his coin. June slowly stood behind him. Poor idiot.

The purse fell and the coins scattered across the ground as June lunged at Frederick, catching him with an arm around the throat. Frederick went for his knife, but by the time his hand reached it, the sheath was empty and the blade pointed up under his chin. He stammered and gulped, raising his hands.

“P-Pl-lease, I done not-thing to, to, to— hAGH!” Frederick choked through the pressure on his throat. “I swear to y— gck!— to you, y-your business is safe, ain’t no-b-body know—”

“Then why, Frederick, did an assassin pay me a visit this morning?” June growled, inching the knife closer to Frederick’s skin.

“June?!” Frederick gasped, raising his chin to avoid the blade. “June, June, my friend, my dear friend— hurgh!” His straining voice was strangled as June flexed her arm for a moment.

“Spare me the niceties and start talking.”

“I swear I don’t know nothing! I just bring him his horse where he needs it!” Frederick was gasping and sobbing now. “June, June, you know I wouldn’t try to hurt you! I didn’t know he was going after you, all I said was you had some questions and he left! I didn’t mean any harm, and he’s said he’d kill me if I didn’t do what he said! Please let me go, you don’t need to hurt me for this!”

“If I’m to show them I’m not messing around, I might just have to.”

“June!” Frederick whimpered, fully trembling in June’s hold. 

An eternity might have passed before June finally tossed the knife to the ground and loosed her grip on Frederick’s neck. Frederick collapsed forward onto his hands and knees, gasping and sputtering. June almost smiled, piteously, as she watched Frederick catch his breath; even after having his life threatened, he still swept up a few coins from the dirt and clenched them safely in his fist.

Frederick scooted back against the opposite wall onto his bedroll. June leaned a shoulder against a support beam and stared at Frederick, trying to formulate her words. She glanced at the knife on the ground, then back at Frederick. He visibly gulped.  _ The assassin was right about one thing, at least, _ June thought. She sighed heavily. In the moment of silence, all of her adrenaline and strength had gone from her.

“I don’t think he came to kill me. He could have easily done that if he wanted. By  _ Akatosh _ , I would like just one full night’s sleep,” June said. A little tension left Frederick’s frame. June continued, “He wanted to get my attention or intimidate me. He wanted to seem in control, like he has eyes everywhere, but the asshole didn’t even see me follow him to the gate.”

“You wh—!” Frederick started, but June held up her hand.

“Now, with the speed that he caught wind of my work, he must have  _some_ people watching, so time is very short before he finds out I followed him. I’ll have to act fast.”

“You’re… planning something?”

“Duh,” June sneered. “This is Thieves Guild basics. What do you do when you know where a pompous shitstain lives? You rob him blind!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how, in game, you can follow invisible-Lucien on his path back to Fort Farragut for a long time after he visits you?


	3. Catch Me If You Can

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June is a thief, and stealing a horse is still stealing. The Dark Brotherhood contains all the fury of a raging bull, and June’s own spite has her ready to wave the red flag.  
> Alternate Summary: June continues to brute force her impulse decisions until they work out in her favor.

The sun had risen above the horizon by the time June returned to the inn, but it still cast long shadows over the city. June could hear the first sounds of business awakening as she tended herself and prepared for her newest endeavor: robbing the home of a Dark Brotherhood assassin.

It wasn’t until pulling on her armor’s doublet that June remembered the cut left by the assassin, as her cheek burned when the fabric touched her face. She pulled open the drawers of the inn room’s dresser and picked up the small mirror inside, turning it to examine the damage.

June grimaced when she saw her appearance. Her teardrop face was gritty and streaked by sweat. The cut had bled profusely and started to swell, giving her a strange ridge across her cheek. The cut itself stretched in a straight, clean line from her left cheekbone under her eye almost to the corner of her jaw. It wasn’t deep and likely would not require treatment, but would certainly leave a scar. June wondered what Frederick had thought when he finally caught a glimpse of her, only to see her face smeared with blood, her already-dark eyes shadowed with unspoken threats.

She felt a twinge of guilt for the way she had treated him in the stable, but brushed it away in a hurry. If Frederick was going to tell the assassin about her, he could at least mention that she didn’t intend take the Dark Brotherhood’s tricks lying down.

After washing the grime from her face, June propped up the mirror and tied up her hair. On its own her hair fell in a cloud of dark coils that tickled her shoulders, but ponytailing it kept it safely out of her face, and haloed her head in a curly pouf that she quite liked. She smiled at her reflection as she teased her hair. It had been a long time since she’d had the luxury of taking a moment for vanity.

June finished dressing and strapped her collection of daggers in their proper places. She took inventory of her tools, picks and potions. Finally, she shook her limbs and bounced in place to make sure nothing was loose; any noise from moving pieces could put her life on the line in the coming hours. Satisfied with her preparation, she gathered herself, locked the room, and turned the key over to the innkeeper.

Her footsteps barely made a sound even as she walked comfortably through Cheydinhal’s streets. The city gates had been opened for the day, and June tucked herself into a group of farmers heading for their fields to pass through unnoticed.  The group dispersed, and June was left alone on the east road. 

June’s plan was rough, little more than a standard, if inelegant, robbery. She would approach the fort, cause a ruckus outside to draw the assassin out, then rush in and nick everything that wasn’t nailed down while the assassin searched. 

It had been two hours, at most, since the assassin had ridden the road, so picking out the horse’s prints in the dirt was a simple matter. June followed them to the bend in the road where they veered sharply and vanished from sight. She took a few steps into the brush, finding the shrubs and saplings gave way easily along the path the horse had taken, despite appearing as solid as the brush around it. She followed this invisible path away from the road and through the shadows of the tree line. On occasion she stumbled or tangled herself in the plants around her, but she made steady enough progress up the steepening hill. She felt a trill of excitement in her veins when she finally caught a glimpse of her mark, the crumbling stones of Fort Farragut.

“Easy, Shadowmere! I’m here, girl. Do you see something?”

June ducked low at the sound of the assassin’s voice. She almost didn’t recognize it, for the assassin had dropped the deep, intimidating edge he had used when speaking to her in the inn. June inched forward until she was pressed against the outer wall of the fort.

“Shadowmere—!” The assassin’s words were cut short by a piercing whinny and the sound of hooves pounding on the ground. The sudden crack of hoof on stone from just the other side of the wall nearly made June jump out of her skin.

_ MOVE. _

Every nerve in June’s body burned white hot with the instinct, and June ran from her hiding place, praying that the horse’s neighs would cover the sound of her movement. 

“Who's there? Show yourself!”

Her instinct had been right. She could see the assassin approaching where she had been moments before, a wicked blade in his hand. He wore loose black clothes, some kind of training gear from the looks of it. And she saw his face for the first time. It was slender and defined, and showed only the first signs of age. His hair was long, dark and greying at the temples, and tied back in a sleek ponytail.

June creeped backwards, her eyes not leaving the assassin. She stayed low and clung to the wall until she reached a gap where the stones had fallen. She ducked inside the fort and curled up in the shadow of the rubble. From this place she could see the assassin’s horse— Shadowmere? The sight of the mare’s glowing red eyes made June’s own eyes widen— pacing the perimeter of the fort, anxiously tossing her head and huffing loudly. The horse was equipped with only a loose rope halter, which had become twisted in her agitation. 

The assassin reentered the fort through its main doorway, brow furrowed. Shadowmere trotted in a few more large circles before she calmed down. The assassin walked to her and stroked her face as he straightened her halter, speaking to her in a voice too low for June to hear at the distance. He walked around Shadowmere, running his hands across her back and legs, and picked up each of her hooves in turn to inspect them for damage. With a hand on the noseband and the on her side, he turned her in a tight circle around him, watching her gait. Apparently satisfied with Shadowmere’s condition, he drew his blade again and crossed the courtyard towards the fort’s heavy iron door. She heard the telltale clicking of a puzzle lock opening and the groan of the door’s hinges. The lock ticked back into place.

With the assassin gone, that was one problem solved. However, a new one formed in its place; with the assassin stalking around inside his own fort, it would be too dangerous to execute a robbery. Not to mention, June had never been one to mess with puzzle locks, or really, puzzle anything.

“Alright, new plan, new plan…” June murmured. Shadowmere plodded around the courtyard, nose to the ground. June watched the horse absently, chewing her lip.

“Oh, I know,” June gasped, a wily smile crossing her face, and she giggled as she set to work.

 

Frederick felt a glowing pride, and a great deal of relief, as he boosted the bosmer woman onto the back of her new horse. She was creepy, young with intense eyes and a sharp voice, and she had taken to lingering at the stable soon after Frederick got his job there. When prompted, she snapped that she wanted a horse, but couldn’t decide which one. Frederick once tried to flirt with her, thinking that perhaps she lingered because she was attracted to him. She responded by drawing an arrow from the quiver on her back and threatening to stab him. Since then, Frederick had mostly avoided her, but his boss was fed up with her loitering and ordered him to help her. After almost two hours of deliberating, she gave him a bag of gold for the small bay horse.

“Here, we just called this one Thunder, cos’ of the sound he makes when he runs,” Frederick said, adjusting the length of the stirrups, “and, like I said, he love to run! When we let him out in the morning he’ll just run back and forth and back and forth ‘cross the pen. I think the other horses get tired just watching him.”

“He will be useful, then,” the woman said. Her sentence was punctuated by the sound of hooves rapidly approaching. She and Frederick both turned to see who was approaching.

Frederick’s stomach dropped as the rider crested the nearest hill. He knew the red eyes of that horse all too well, but the figure on her back wasn’t a shadowy, cloaked man, it was...

“Oh, no, no, no! June, what have you done now?” Frederick cried, his client forgotten. 

June reined Shadowmere in for a moment next to the paddock fence, her face split by a wide grin. “You tell him,” she paused, breathing heavily, “You tell him when he comes around here, that I know that he knows that I know, er, that I know, uh… Tell him he has information that I need, and I have his fucking horse. We can make a deal, but if he tries any funny shit, I still have his fucking horse and she is  _ fast _ !”

As though to prove her point, June squeezed her heels against Shadowmere’s belly, jolting her back into a gallop away from the city. 

“How  _ dare  _ she!” the bosmer suddenly growled. She turned her horse and kicked him into a gallop, not so much as flinching when the horse clumsily launched himself over the paddock gate.

The door to the stable house opened and the owner stepped out, looking between Frederick and the rapidly vanishing riders. Frederick closed his gaping mouth and swallowed.

“Did she pay for the horse?” the owner asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Frederick answered weakly, holding up the gold.

The owner shrugged and went back inside, leaving Frederick to stare down the road alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update is a little quick and dirty, as I've been busy with end of semester. Chapters may come a little slow for a while for the same reason. I'm still writing! It'll just take me some time.  
> I'm also working my way back into the game content, so there will be more of a presence of canon characters and events from here on out, as far as the au allows.  
> EDIT 6/19/19: Note for folks who followed this story, as said in the description, this fic is not abandoned. However, it is on pause for the time being. I wrote myself into a corner while working on this fic, and it’s taking some doing to try and get back out. I AM still working on it in bits and pieces, but it is slow going, and slower still for the fact that Dragon Age has taken over my interest these past months. Fear not, for this AU (though I haven’t published the bulk of it) is not something I’m willing to let die. It will, however, be some time before there is another update.  
> Thank you for the enthusiasm shown so far. I truly didn’t expect any response when I set out writing this :)


End file.
